


Fix You

by Falconette



Category: Free!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4214775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You fell for him while trying to help him. Now you hide more than just his secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fix You

**FIX YOU**

 

“This doesn’t look good. This doesn’t look good at all.” you say to break the awkward silence of having the shirtless man you liked, alone, in your rented flat as your fingers dug through his muscled back. He was right there alright, before you, to touch and feel up to your heart’s content, only he wasn’t enjoying a second of it.

* * *

You met Sousuke at the gym where he overheard you – a trainee physiotherapist – giving advices to somebody on their injuries. In retrospect, you realized he must have hung around for quite a while, waiting for his team mates to leave, maybe even skip his dinner, to approach you. If his tall, looming frame didn’t leave an impression then, his silent glare definitely did. Luckily, he must have been aware of the effect he caused on people so he got to the point quickly, confiding his ailment and asking you to treat him when needed, which turned out to be more and more frequent as the time passed.

He made a point of keeping your arrangement a secret from the others and you soon understood why, as you got to know him and his circumstances. Sousuke was a swimmer, a damn good one, a rising star that threatened to smother itself in its glorious shine. Somewhere along his straight, unchallenged climb he botched, ignored the small crack that appeared on his bright future and mercilessly pursued his goal until the crack became a crevice. He didn’t verbalize it, but you saw in his eyes that he spent a lot of silent, brooding hours dreading that the crevice will open up into a chasm that will swallow him whole.

But still, he continued pushing his luck.

You agreed to play along partly because you felt sorry for him. It wasn’t pity - there was nothing to pity in the confident way he went about, his measured movements and deep, powerful voice. Nothing to pity in his glare that stared people down with cold pyre. No, those were the reasons you started to look forward to his curt messages and furtive calls, to being close to him with almost intimate touches, safely hidden behind his back as you massaged his skin and elevated his aches.

He would come to you for help and you would do your best, no guarantees asked or given, with scarce words, low lights and background music from your computer, the two of you and a secret between you. You would sometimes close your eyes as your fingers diligently worked and the whole world would become the smell of his skin with a whiff of chlorine from the pool he permanently carried in his hair. Sometimes, when you would watch him race or train, you would see the way those arms that laid limp beneath your fingertips spread out and savagely attack the water, again and again, relentlessly, against the clock, against the laws of physics, against the pain, you would see the adamant focus in his shining eyes, pushing him forward, spreading the elements before him, making them yield to his will and you knew you would never be able to face that gaze up-front, get out of your shelter from behind his shoulders and tell him…

He was falling, but so were you.

Even then, that first time in the gym when he announced his name with a slight bow, his request uttered in a low voice, polite and serious, even then - he didn’t smile. He never did.

* * *

“It is not getting any better, despite the treatment.” after receiving no reply from Sousuke, you emphasized the message you were trying to get across but he only deigned you with a grunt. If you noticed it, he knew it already anyway. You used both your arms to keep his right upper arm elevated in the position for exercises he was performing, feeling the strain of fighting against his power as he flexed. “And one more, …and rest.”

You let go and he tentatively lowered his arm, frowning in the process. In time, he stopped masking the painful grimaces from you as he did in front of others and you couldn’t decide if that was a sign of your closeness or your non-existence in his world.

“That’s enough,” his voice was rasped and slow paced, “I don’t want to overdo it today.” He jerked his shoulder in circular motions, testing the range of movements by the level of pain they produced. One didn’t have to have a trained eye to notice the excessive muscle mass of the left side of his body that grew in attempt to compensate for the crippling right. There was only so much a body could do to preserve the balance and the ceaseless stress on the injured joint had to be treated appropriately, beginning with a proper rest.

“You are not serious about competing tomorrow.” you heard yourself blurt out, sitting behind him with a palm across his swelled shoulder. You were always braver with a shield of his back between you, having his weakness exposed to you and your scrutiny. He didn’t look you much in the eyes either, so his head swung towards you but stopped just enough to leave them beyond the reach of his glance.

“That is why I am here.” there was an irritated tone in his observation, directed to you, to the pain that wormed inside him, to the unfairness of it all, “To get patched up.” This is how he got before the races that mattered or whenever his scores indicated he was getting left behind. That was when he would call you, ask you for a miracle and grit his teeth in agony while you fixed the damage.

“Alright then.” you moved away and got up, stung, changing the subject and heading for kitchen. He was right – the deal was to give him treatments, not sermons. “Do you want some tea?” fumbling with mugs longer than necessary, you stepped out to repeat the question just to find him standing in the door frame, wearing his T-shirt again and looking awkwardly out of place.

“I mean… thank you for your effort.” He scratched the back of his head, looking away. This is how your face-to-face conversations always went, like a morning-after encounter. “I will try not to exhort myself tomorrow.”

Your mind turned again to Sousuke in the water, clawing at it and propelling himself forward with every fiber of his considerable muscle mass, pounding it loudly into submission, forcing it to give way. Whoever called that style ‘butterfly’ must have been out of his mind. As was Sousuke if he really meant to race seriously and avoid exhorting himself.

“It starts at 10… if you want to come and watch.” his eyes swept across your face bit didn’t linger there. He noticed the mug in your hand, hesitated and then turned to leave, silently ignoring your offer.

“Maybe I will drop by,” you see him out, knowing you will be there, biting your lip from the second he heads towards that starting block. “Make sure you get your rest.”

“Yeah,” he lingers on your doorstep, making a firm eye contact in the cover of the night he stepped into. He opened his mouth as if he was going to add something but changed his mind and, shoving hands inside pockets of his pants, he nodded and departed.

* * *

On the day of the competition teams and supporters flooded the hall, and the pool, once big, was dwarfed by the massive crowd surrounding it. You could spot Samezuka colors on many boys amid the sea of heads, however Sousuke’s unruly hair was nowhere in sight. That did not worry you at first, however as the 200m butterfly race was nearing, you caught yourself casting nervous glances around in hope to find him.

There was a chance of him changing his mind about taking part in the race, but you doubted it. So, when you couldn’t spy him in the adjacent warm-up pool some 20 minutes before his race, you couldn’t sit still any longer. Yesterday’s sight of his swelled shoulder haunted you. Getting up, you lowered your head and briskly marched towards changing rooms, praying no one would stop you and politely but relentlessly escort you out as those were off limits for spectators.

The home team premises were deserted, with most of the swimmers participating in some event or another and the rest giving loud support from the benches. You tiptoed further down the corridor, leaned against the door that separated it from the changing room and halted your breath. Nothing could be heard from the inside, not even dripping of water.

“S-sousuke?” your voice came out feeble and thin, but loud enough to make your stomach knot in dread. You weren’t supposed to be here. If found, there was literally nothing you could say to extricate yourself. Even if Sousuke was in there alone, he had every right to ask whether you were out of your mind, stalking him inside men’s changing rooms.

Still, the gut feeling told you otherwise.

So you pushed the door open with trembling fingers just enough for your wide eyes to peek through. Since there were only lockers in your line of sight you tentatively pressed the door more boldly, inching your head through the gap, taking in the whole room.

The air that swept across your face was fresh and chilly, like somebody inside recently took a shower, but not a pleasantly warm one. A small bench divided the room in half and on it you spotted him, sitting with elbows on knees and a towel hanging loosely over his head. By the slouch in his back that came from sitting on the low bench you knew immediately it was Sousuke, even before he turned his head to look at you from underneath the towel.

Your eyes met and you thought your heart was going to stop. You recognized him but there was something unrecognizable in his glare. The turquoise orbs were eyeing you from shadow with a strange glint, until his voice softened their edge.

“Don’t just stand there, come inside.”

You mindlessly obeyed and approached him, wondering if it really was a trace of relief you heard in his tone. As you got closer you noticed that his jammers were dripping wet, goose bumps pricked his exposed skin and his muscles slightly trembled all over. He must have been showering with freezing cold water for who knows how long.

“How bad is it?” you asked in a dry voice, without really needing to. It was evident he had reached a breaking point. It was the beast of pain that was curled up in his glare, voice, arching of his back, and you were well aware you were the only one here it could sink its venomous teeth into. You could feel its low, dangerous growl in the air around Sousuke, it made the fine hair on the nape of our neck stand on end.

With a strained sigh, he ignored the question and declared in a dark voice, hiding his face behind the towel again. “I need you to fix me up for the race.” It was not a request.

“No.” you retorted without a thought eyeing his swelled shoulder, feeling the situation was slipping out of control and wishing you had turned him down days, months before. He must have been going through agony, but was still able to maintain a cool façade.

Sousuke remained perfectly still for a moment, breathing deeply and deliberately, before his scowling face snapped at you with open mouth and exposed teeth to say something, something jagged, venomous and irreversible, to cut the leash on the beast and let it sink its claws into somebody else. Just then purposeful footsteps echoed down the corridor, approaching the door, and his gaze obtained a look of desperation you have never seen before. He didn’t have to beg you, it was written all over his face.

Without a thought you sat down next to him, leaning against his skin despite its wetness, put one hand around his and the other over his shoulder and the swelling, disregarding his painful flinch. Just in that second the door burst open and captain Matsuoka barged in.

“Dammit Sousuke, do you need a private announ…” Rin’s voice trailed off and his eyes grew large after seeing you two clinging to each other.

“Oh. I didn’t…” he started and then stopped, unsure whether to enter or leave. “I didn’t know you…” He stood awkwardly in the doorframe for another moment in loss of words then turned on his heel and started to retreat, but cast one last, sideways glance to no one in particular. “Your race is starting in 15 minutes, maybe you should be getting ready.” he said in a carefully neutral voice and closed the door behind him.

You unwrapped your hands off Sousuke the moment the door slammed shut and remained sitting next to him in screaming silence with your eyes fixed intently in front of you. Your heart was pounding its way out of your chest. The feel of Sousuke’s body was still present on your skin, surprisingly pleasant despite the dampness it left on your clothes and it made you all funny inside.

“So I guess that means…” next to you, Sousuke’s soft voice brought you to reality, “that was a ‘yes’ after all.” You turned your head to look at him, startled by the change. There was no edge in his tone, no roughness. The eyes that looked back at you weren’t scary anymore.  


“I still don’t think it is a good idea.” you whispered defiantly, frowning at him.

“You are worried about me.” He didn’t even say it as a question, merely stated the obvious. Still, you gave him a slight nod, for some reason feeling like tearing up. His hand reached out and clasped yours, gently but firmly. His fingers were rigid and trembling from cold, but the touch felt like immersing your hand in embers.

“This race means a lot to me.” He explained slowly, looking you evenly in the eye. “And I know what it may do to me.” His fingers gently squeezed yours, making sure you understood the gravity of his request, “But I need to go out there, they are counting on me. If I bailed out now, I could never show my face in front of them again.”

“Promise me you will tell the captain.” you mouthed, feeling weak. You could easily make out every single detail in his turquoise eyes, every single black eyelash shadowing his gaze. Only this time you were also exposed to him, not in your safe place behind his back and there was nowhere to run.

“After the race.” he said in a clear, firm voice, showing no intention to move away, making you wonder what exactly he meant by that. There was something shining in his eyes, something intense that scared you and lulled you at the same time. Something that made you weak and afraid that things were never going to be same again. “I promise.”

You nodded again in agreement, shakily getting up to stand behind him. This was a familiar place again, the view of his broad shoulder blades, the feel of taut muscles beneath your fingers. There were times when you thought he could carry the whole world on that back of his and now you were afraid he was attempting to. Slowly you poked around, assessing the condition of the trembling tissue. The knot in his damaged shoulder was bad and the damage worse than you expected. Terrible. Your brow twisted in compassion as you worked gently to loosen up the overstrained flesh, afraid to cause him more pain.

“Hey,” his voice came as a low murmur resonating through his ribcage as he cast you a sideways glance, looking you in the eye, “don’t cut me any slack. There is no time for that.”

“This will really hurt.” you squeezed out a warning, feeling your eyes tearing up despite your clenched jaw. The flesh underneath your fingers was cooled by water and sinewy, numb. It felt more like working on a piece of clay then on a living person.

“I know.” He gave you a pale hint of a smile before turning forward again and saying in a barely audible voice. “And don’t look at me like that… I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“Sorry.” you automatically replied, flooded by guilt of another kind, and pressed your fingers in the sore spot on his back, finding the inflamed ligament, massaging it, testing its limits. Sousuke grunted but didn’t move away, enduring, working his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you started treating him for real and this time he yelped in pain, the raw sound reverberating off tiled walls.

“No,” he breathed, his hand quickly retrieving your trembling one when you jumped back, startled by his cry. The side of his face that was not hidden from your eyes was as pale as snow and covered in slick perspiration. “Do whatever you must. I will not make another sound.”

You shakily nodded, continuing your work and he held his promise. He breathed strained, shallow breaths, his thumb and forefinger roughly pressed against his squeezed eyelids, but his mouth remained a silent, tight, white line. You massaged on for couple more minutes in a complete silence.  

There was little time, minutes, before he would go to the pool or go to a hospital and you were ambivalent about your part in his self-destructive decisions. Because there was no way around it – going all out in a race in this condition was like playing Russian roulette with four loaded bullets. Only a fool’s luck could keep him safe and you weren’t sure who the bigger fool of you two was.

You felt him move and check the clock on the wall, preparing to stand up. “That will do.” he said in a strangely calm voice, towering above you and the bench, his expression unreadable. “I have to go and warm up.”

He strode towards the door, testing his shoulder joint in wide circular motions and grabbing his goggles on the way. He cast his usual, aloof glance your way, followed by a smirk, “Don’t worry, I am fine now.”

You remained pointedly silent at his blatant lie, starting to get up yourself.

“Don’t come to the race.” He said sternly, his face obtaining a more serious expression, and added hastily, “Wait for me here.”

Your blank stare and open mouth must have spoken volumes because he started explaining himself halfway through the doorframe, “Please. I don’t think I can…”

“Sousuke, for fuck’s sake!” Rin’s growl reverberated down the corridor. This time, the red haired captain didn’t even bother to come to the changing room. “Save that for later! You will be disqualified if you don’t haul your ass here right now!”

Sousuke left the thought unfinished, turned his back to you and walked out in a practiced, measured stride, pulling his goggles on.

“Hai, hai…” you heard his resonating, drawled retort as the door slammed shut. In an instant, you were left alone in men’s changing room, sitting heavily down back on the bench, your fingers aching with extortion and with an uneasy feeling in your belly.

There was nothing left for you to do but wait.

* * *

Your eyes never left the clock. The minutes moved slowly, you wondered if the race had begun, if Sousuke had made it in time, if he was able to finish. How long does a race last? More than a minute, less than two. So much energy, expectations, hard work condensed in such small amount of time. No wonder it broke him. Or almost broke him.

The door opened so suddenly you jumped, barely having the time to register Sousuke’s tall frame and dark hair as he closed the distance between you in three long steps, tossing his wet swimming cap and goggles to the floor. You managed to stand up just as he stopped in front of you, still breathless and trembling from strain, snorting residual water down his nose. He must have ran here right after exiting the pool.

“Sousu…” you mumbled, losing your voice. His glare gave nothing away, his chest inhaling and exhaling in heaves, feeding oxygen to the tired muscles. Your eyes vainly searched his face for a clue. “How did it...?”

Before you could finish, one powerful arm embraced your shoulders and pulled you to him, pressing you relentlessly against his wet skin. For the first time, you heard and felt genuine laughter reverberating through his chest.

“I did it.” He breathed out, an unfamiliar thrill coloring his voice, ”Thanks to you, I did it.”

“I didn’t really do all that much…” you peeled your head away, strands of your hair sticking to him, your palms pressing against his stomach. “I just…”

The determined expression on his face stole the voice form your mouth as you were beginning to sink into his deep eyes that were close as never before. Imperceptibly, his lips inched towards yours, slowly, like moving through honey, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“I…”

His lips wouldn’t let you finish, hungrily deepening the stolen kiss. You kissed him back, clumsily then joyfully, your fingers entwining behind his neck to keep him close even though he showed no intention of leaving. His mouth was hot, he was still struggling to even his breath as he pressed yours against his body, tearing down the barriers between you. Finally. Giving yourself over to his strength, your hands found their way around his back, holding on to the slick, taut skin, like before only a thousand times better. Openly. Freely.

It was real; the faint smell of chlorine, his muscles that moved you around with no effort at all, his warm tongue and soft lips. And the unexplainable, the unleashed urge, the need and desire that have been building up for a long, long time. Was it as bad for him as it had been for you? The longing, the touching without being allowed to feel the pleasure, the closeness that felt like a million miles apart.

“Oi, Sousuke, I didn’t know you could fly like that!” Rin burst through the door only to stop in his tracks, again.

“Not now.” Sousuke growled, half-turning to his captain, shielding you with his broad shoulders from Rin’s view. You heard his exasperated sigh of disbelief clearly, though.

“You’re at it AGAIN!?”

“Not. Now.” Sousuke repeated with a more menace in his tone and you heard the door promptly slam shut, hurried footsteps fading away.

“Sorry. “ Sousuke cleared his throat, looking at you with more expectations than apologies. “I will clear up this mess with Rin.” He still seemed to be breathless, but for a different reason. “…if you want me to.”

You felt a reluctant but genuine smile tug at your lips as you looked up at him and said: “What for? After all, he is right, or?”

Sousuke’s lips stretched into a wide, relieved smile that lit up his whole face. How those eyes ever seemed menacing, you wondered. “Seems so.” he kissed you again, this time gently and slowly, carefully nesting you more snuggly into his embrace. No need to rush, now that he knew you wouldn’t disappear from his arms to hide behind his back again.

“Seems so.”

 


End file.
